First Equestrian Assault Renegades
by PaxtonProphet
Summary: (WEIRD CROSSOVER AU. Yup. I actually made this.) After his less than graceful landing near ground zero, our favorite mute soldier finds his way through the hell he and his kin have created.
1. Chapter 1

_AN~ heh... Another WEIRD AU and this time a crossover. Yeah, I know, these two fandoms don't look like they would mix very well, but I and a friend have been thinking about this for a long time and I've seen some stuff on Deviantart that very well also influenced this work. Let's get truthful: I've thought about doing this crossover for three years. Yeah... Three years... I'm weird. ANYWAY, let me just give you a little heads up: In this universe, F.3.A.R. does not exist because I didn't like F.3.A.R. (Though I DID like some of the character designs.) F.3.A.R. really messed up the story and retconed a LOT of important information. Also, F.E.A.R. 2: Reborn is cannon here. Finally, SOME characters that the games might have killed off may be alive here for reasons you will soon discover. ENJOY MY MADNESS!_

* * *

A cluster of madness above his head and he was stirred awake in an instant. He could not yet stand but made peace with the idea of staying put for some while longer. There was no clear indication -yet- that he'd been hurt by the crash. Speaking of which... He turned his head to gloss his eyes about the wreckage of the chopper which was suppose to have flown him to safety and free of the madness he'd just endured. Now fire lay a reckoning upon it as though the sun's wrath wished destruction upon it. From the chopper, he came to look about his surroundings which had just come into focus. Evidently, he hadn't made it far from ground zero. He was in a swell of total devistation, consumed by fire and rubble as far as the eye could see. There were no movements save for that of said fire and the collapse of said rubble. No matter... He couldn't stay much longer. Planting his hooves firmly on the asphalt, he stood and stilled his stocky, shaking legs. His left hind leg began to ail him to a light degree, but it was nothing he couldn't manage. It didn't seem broken, only sprained. He stood tall and shook free from small bits of debris and dust which clung to him as well as some of his more useless armor. It was almost all useless. All he had left was the chest-plate and even that was in poor condition.

A small pool of blood began to drip from the crest of his mane, causing his ears to roll back and a slight sigh to break from his muzzle. It didn't seem life-threatening, but only time would tell. In spite of it all - the growing pain within him and the new blood staining his coat- he pressed himself on and began to rummage through what little of the wreckage was salvageable. It was then that the first sign of curious instances began to plague him. There were no bodies... He was the only one there... He knew for a fact that others had been on the chopper with him... One Pegasus, two earth ponies- like himself- and a female unicorn... Jin... His ears rolled forward again and a jump kicked him in his heart. The illness he felt in not finding her was almost painful. If she wasn't there, perhaps she bailed before the chopper hit and his memory was fractured... Or she hadn't and somepony dragged her away... Something had to have moved her... But... why hadn't that same thing moved HIM? Inwardly, he hoped she was alright... Deeply...

Finally, once satisfied with his check, he decided to move onward. One must never stay within the bounds of ground zero... Especially that of a nuclear-level explosion. He knew better. With another sigh, he soon began to walk through a maze of crippled streets, swallowed by the wrath of desolation. As he walked, strange things began to nip at him, breaking through the wall of his mind and into the depths of his innermost thoughts. It felts so utterly intrusive, but whatever was doing so obviously wasn't looking for anything. It simply nestled itself among his thoughts as though to simply, passively observe. Even still, he had no love for anything within his mind other than himself. He'd had enough of the mental games of others. He pushed himself to will the abstract thing away, force it from his own being as the rightful occupant of himself, but this THING was already rooted deeply. As much as he didn't want it with him, though, he pressed himself to ignore it. For all he knew, it was his estranged mother coming to haunt him once again. It wouldn't surprise him. Those of Wade blood had a bad habit of not staying dead.

* * *

 _The clack of his hooves made but a single echo as he trotted so nonchalantly to the crestfallen monolith of which he'd been so eager to find. So many turn-arounds and frustrating hours later, he'd found proper direction to it and was astonished, though happy, to see it still standing and doing so with ease. The explosion hadn't done much else but break some windows and perhaps shatter the fountain in the front walkway. It was a crude monument, anyhow. Such a loss was of little worry to him. Walking quietly to the front doors, though, his happiness soon boiled into more frustration. The entrance was blocked, not only by furniture, but also by the very twisted metal of the doors themselves. He scowled and maneuvered around the yard to find another means of entry. Such a place came in the form of a small shop, though he was unaware- as well as unconcerned- as to what exactly it had been. All he knew was that there was a back-door and one which found him means of entry. This door lead him to the spiraling stairwell which he so grudgingly began to climb. Onto the first landing, he found a gate, swung wide and almost unhinged, though the damage done to it's lock hadn't been from the explosion. The padlock lay upon the ground with the obvious gouges of a pistol shot. In that, his ear's turned back._

 _"Wonderful," he growled to himself in a sickly-smooth rumble, filtered slightly by the mask which he wore. He guessed that he who had done the damage might have still been near. The doubt was of enough to keep his mane on end. Still, he climbed and climbed, knowing well that his target was nestled into the top floor, the pent-house level. No ache in his legs would keep him from it. He reached it soon and pulled himself to the front door of the very place which he was seeking. It was blown in, scorched by whatever had seen fit to do so- which could have been a number of things._

 _With a grunt, he pressed forward, ignoring the broken way of the home and up the stairs. Through a door at their top, there was a hallway and, through that, a bedroom. This bedroom was almost as disheveled as the rest of the home, though not too honestly bad. There were the normal accommodations which one could associate with a bedroom, save for the gaping hole in the wall which lead into a soulless, concrete room strewn in papers and delving into another room protected by a blast-door. He had yet to take heed to said room, however, as something else had caught his attention: A small, wooden box. It lay upon the floor as though carefully placed and in waiting. To him, it seemed much like bait, but his own conscious, often foreboding, urged him to investigate. With the muzzle of his masked snout, he flicked open the top of the box... Instantly, a soft, lulling yet trepidatious tune began to roll about the white disk inside. It was then that he lowered his snout and hoofed the mask from his head, shaking back the short strands of mane which fell upon his crest. Bright blue eyes bore upon the box and lost themselves in thoughts... winding... grey thoughts... As they wandered still, farther and farther, he felt those beams of ice grow moist and a deep pain boil within his heart..._

 _He rocked his head to and fro and lowered himself down to lay upon his belly. His head gently pressed against the carpet and eyes fluttered shut to simply relish this... simple... and worthwhile distraction._


	2. Chapter 2

_an~ Keep an eye out for the horse joke ;)_

* * *

A stiff kick of his hoof and he was off again, shoving himself rather awkwardly through a thin crevasse between two disheveled walls. He was much too big a pony to be maneuvering in the ways which he had been as of late. It was work for a Pegasus or a unicorn; any smaller creature aside from himself. An earth pony of his build was created for brute strength over all else. 'Twas in these thoughts that he soon found him adrift within himself, thinking distantly on his previous endeavors while his body was on auto-pilot. So many questions rolled about and, at their forefront, was that of Paxton Fettel. He hadn't seen much evidence to merit believing what the cannibal had told him... Or... Anything surely solid. Paxton did look much like him, in build, coat, eyes... hell, even snout structure. He was slightly shorter and thinner than he, but Paxton Fettel surely COULD pass as his brother. He didn't want to believe it, so passionately... He didn't want to see the signs... He wanted to remember a childhood, a family, a name, any name, aside from a title so haphazardly bestowed and lovelessly addressed... He wanted to remember anything... anything at all... But he was blank... Might as well have fell from the sky. He'd never dwelled on it, only doing as he was trained to do from his early teen years to present. By the light above... what was he? That simple seed of doubt stopped him dead in his tracks. He stood still among the monoliths of toppled society and watched the sky as it swelled and threatened to break under its own weight.

What was he...? Paxton Fettel had been grown in a vat... IMPLANTED into Alma Wade like a device... Was he the same...? If all he'd been told was true, than that must have been as well, but what was true when no real evidence could muster itself for him? Yes! There WAS evidence and so much of it in all forms, but he tried to the point of growing ill to deny and deny again all that he knew was true and knew he could not continue to deny. He'd say it to himself one million times over and yet that doubt, that illness grew still... No family... No name... No memories... Flashbacks to a time he knew not of...Resemblance... Connection to Armacham... Damn it all, he had parts in himself that bore the company's blasted insignia! His wall of denial fell... His defense along with it... He was a... beast... grown in a test tube and birthed into the waiting hands of a company who wanted nothing more than to conjure conduits of war... The way his heart began a slow decent made him want to drop to his stomach and never get up... He'd never found himself. Now that he had, he felt as though he should never have started looking in the first place...

* * *

 _Along the wall of monitors there was but one that chimed on for him and allowed access. Much of the rest was fried to no restoration, though the room ran on a separate generator and even a back-up in case the first failed. Still, one working console was all he needed. With the gentle tip of his right fore-hoof, he entered a lengthy sequence of commands:_

 ** _datanet/hannibaltrack/armachamconsole0001/aristeed/findsignal_**

 _An expansive map squared across the screen and centered itself along the bounds of the city. Via a cursor, he could rotate the map, but that was of little use if he hadn't a target. He continued to type:_

 ** _netweb/signalcode/codelistings_**

 _Along the right of the screen began to scroll a list of what looked to be mindless letters and numbers. His eyes scanned each carefully, looking for something rather... special... "There you are..."_

 ** _findsignal/orgn0001_**

 _A single red dot flashed on the screen. It was close to the Auburn site but still fairly distant; enough to be safe."I suppose he'll need to be picked up. Let us send a.. **shuttle.** "_

 ** _sendtosignal/orgn0001/system34732/_** ** _Taurus- command: capture_**

* * *

Something deep within him shuddered. It was a shift in the breeze; a change so small yet so ere. An ice-like whip crawled over his pelt and rose his mane in a fierce spike. His ears turned as did his snout from the ground and he soon listened silently to the distant shudder of, what sounded like, a helicopter. As avid he might have been to be taken far from wherever he was, he knew better than to trust any random machine. Until he saw it, he would be akin to the shadows. Ducking into a small store-front, he crouched low and waited. The sound drew nearer and nearer and he soon did realize that this sound was much more furious than a single helicopter, or any machine he'd ever had the privilege of hearing at all. It was like a storm of jets was soaring high above the city. The sound was almost too much to handle. He had to clasp his fore-hooves over his ears and still it grew closer.. closer... louder...stronger...angrier... Then it stopped... For but a brief moment the sound slowed into a simple lull... Then the ground shook as the creator of the cacophony made itself known. Four metal-bore legs stood tall before the front, rolling upon a stocky frame and obvious cock-pit. The machine was unfathomable, something almost of fiction... He would have contemplated on it more, but it turned... and it looked... directly at him...

Not waiting to find out if it was friendly- which it probably wasn't if the large Armacham insignia on it's chest was anything to go by- he bolted through the building and out of the back door which lead to an intersection and into a thinner alley towards the port. He galloped lopsidedly down towards the water front tore along its edge, heading for the irrigation vein which he knew had to be near the treatment plant ahead. At least... it LOOKED like a treatment plant. He hoped it was. His pace steadied, though somewhat slower than he was used to, and he felt a rise in his pulse as sure steady rumble began to vibrate through his hooves. He head a healthy lead on it. It had to be enough... With everything he could muster and a snarl of pure determination, he raced across the broken concrete... Then... everything slowed... A single blur of an object then materialized above him, a mass of metal and machinery. On reflex, he righted himself to jerk and skirt along it's right side, just out of its path. The world slowly, but surely, returned it its natural state and the robotic monster landed hard upon the ground, shattering the stone road and shaking his legs almost to the point of knocking him over. He was firm, however, and did as he had planned, running along its side and ducking down into the sand-bar below the road.

Another shape darted towards him and, again, the world seemed to fracture its own time, allowing him knowledge to dodge the swipe of a steel hoof just off his crest. All returned and he continued to sprint along the sand, only now burdened with the unsteady ground below him. Still, he pushed himself to near exhaustion, galloping faster and faster still... But neither he... nor his abilities... could save him this time...

A swipe from behind and he was knocked snout-first into the sand, landing hard and fast with a fractured grunt. He was given no time to recover as a set of smooth, lanky appendages coiled about him, strangling him as the lifted him up into the muzzle of the machine. There was no pause at all as a sharp tip stuck from one of the 'vines' and slit into his withers. His legs became stiff and his snout did droop, but his eyes only watches as he, a helpless rag-doll, was confined into the cockpit of said beast to be taken wherever its controller did deep appropriate.

* * *

 _That look in his eyes... it was so familiar... so sick yet sweet to observe... He found his own pleasure in it and would find even more once he saw it through his own eyes and not that of a machine... He raised his posture in a arch of triumph and walked back up into the penthouse above. From there, he ventured onto the balcony which had been violently torn asunder by the fallout. The skies were beginning to cry. Foreboding, he thought. "I do believe it is time for a little reunion...Brother..."_


End file.
